


Kingdom of the Undead

by randompersonH2O



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Name Changes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:09:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randompersonH2O/pseuds/randompersonH2O
Summary: King Rickard Grimes hadn't been on the throne for long, but already he'd begun to mold the kingdom to the image he had for it. He was working tirelessly to repay the massive debts left by the previous king, and to protect the realm as well. In the past three years, he'd faced enemies he'd never thought he'd have to fight. However, when a new enemy ravages his kingdom while he's at his most vulnerable, how will he handle it?





	

Rickard Grimes took a deep breath as he pulled his horse to a halt, the fall air filling his nostrils with the scents left behind by the rain that had fallen the night before. The kingsroad was still damp and slippery, which had forced his party to proceed at a slower pace than he or his mount would have liked. Either way, he had scouts riding miles ahead of them; His prey wouldn't escape him today.

"Is everything well, Your Grace?" Ser Stafford Walsh asked him, the young, lean sorrel mare he was mounted on gasping for breath as he pulled her to a halt beside Rickard's massive black stallion. The horse had been with him since childhood, but it had been kept fit by years of light riding for mere show. He had never brought the animal into battle, but his usual mount - a swift grey mare excited by leading the charge - was being bred. If the foal was strong, he planned to present it to his son, Cayn, on his name day. He would have to make do with the animal for today, but he was a bit apprehensive about it. The stallion looked strong and intimidating, but it had never seen the chaos of battle.

"I'm fine, Stafford. Any word from the scouts on the location of the enemy?" Rickard asked, putting the thought out of his mind as he pulled the steel helm from his head and looked down at his Hand. The man had recently replaced Rickard's father in the position, and he wasn't quite used to the long list of duties it required him to perform. However, he was willing to learn. It was his best friend that had trusted him with the position, after all.

"One of the scouts just returned, my lord. He said they're camped but a few leagues ahead," Stafford replied, looking up at his king. Though they were about the same height on the ground, the heights of their equine companions presented them in completely different ways on the battlefield. It amazed him, in fact, how much more intimidating his friend appeared to be on a taller horse.

"Then call everyone to their positions. We'll ride immediately," Rickard ordered, his sapphire eyes following the man as he wheeled his mount in the opposite direction and sent her cantering off to where the his small army waited. It was a small force made up of about one thousand, including himself, which he thought was more than sufficient for taking out a band of only two hundred savages.

Normally he wouldn't deal with this himself, but one of his subjects had come to him begging for them to get rid of them. According to the farmer, the band had killed his children and some of his livestock on his way back from another town, and they had killed numerous others as well. Rickard had thought that it would be better to handle it himself, though, since it was likely that no other nearby lord would bother with them. However, his wife hadn't been as approving of the idea as the farmer.

"You don't even have to go with them! Just let one of your knights lead the host and stay here," Lyanna had begged him, but he had refused. He had seen the logic behind the idea, but there wasn't much of a reason for him to remain there. He was taking plenty of knights and sellswords with him, way more than he needed, and they weren't going against an organized army. But he missed the thrill of battle - he hadn't seen one since he'd been passed the throne - and he wanted to go. He just wasn't going to mention that to his family.

Rickard had assured both his wife and son numerous times before he left that he would be fine, but he had been able to tell as he'd looked into his wife's brown eyes that she was worried about him. He'd tried his best to put her face out of his mind as the battle drew closer, but her features remained as a prominent picture in his mind, reminding him of his promise that he would come home safe.

He shook the thought from his head quickly, knowing that his men would be waiting for him as he turned his own mount in the direction that Stafford had taken off in a few moments before. As the king, it was his duty to lead the charge, and he wasn't about to worry those he was leading by making them think that he was scared.

Once he'd returned his helmet to it's proper place atop his head, he urged the horse into a swift canter through the trees. The colors of the forest blended together as he rode, nearly creating the illusion that he wasn't moving at all. The rocking of his horse was the thing that kept the illusion at bay for a time, but he knew he had traveled when his eyes landed on his men. Their cloaks laid still on their backs, but he knew they would soon be floating like feathers behind their owners. They just needed to find their enemy first.

Rickard nodded at Stafford as he approached, motioning quickly for the rest of the host to follow as he sent his horse in the direction that his friend had indicated. They hadn't had a chance to look at the group of savages themselves, but it didn't matter. They were nothing to worry about, especially since he had the element of surprise. As long as his scouts had done their jobs well and given him accurate information, they had absolutely nothing to worry about.

He slowed the pace of the party as they came closer to the clearing, the din of the enemy campsite floating through the trees as they drew near. Rickard could smell the meat they were cooking over the fire, and from the volume of their voices it seemed as though their minds were already muddled from drinking. They didn't seem to expect an attack at all.

He drew his sword quickly, the Valyrian steel glistening in the light of the setting sun. He would like this to be over and done with before darkness fell, so they had to move quickly. The king didn't anticipate the battle lasting too long, but things didn't always go as planned. Rickard turned to look at his men quickly, various helms of different shapes crossing the paths of his eyes. He wanted to make sure that they looked ready before they sped off into battle. They would have to be, though, since many of them had chosen to come in the first place.

"Charge!" he cried, his heels digging into the sides of his steed as his voice ended the peace that had fallen over the forest before their arrival. His horse surged forward, nearly pulling him off balance as he led his soldiers into the group of savages, whose minds were too clouded by mead for them to do anything right away.

The first man to see just how much the king remembered about battle was one of the first of the savages to grab for their weapons. The man was scrawny and weak, but the battleaxe he was groping for in the dirt and leaves was far from harmless. Rickard didn't hesitate to slice through the man's neck as he galloped by, though he didn't pay particular attention to the body once he was sure he was dead. He enjoyed the adrenaline that battle gave him, but there was no blood lust to be found in his mind. He just wanted his people safe.

Despite some small hiccups, the fight came and went in the blink of an eye. The savages had become a bit more dangerous when a few of them acquired mounts of their own, but the alcohol they had no doubt consumed beforehand was giving Rickard's army an advantage. Only the sober warriors managed to see that their tribe was outnumbered, and many of them fled. Those who stayed behind, however, were slaughtered with the rest of their comrades.

Rickard pulled his tired horse to a halt as the last of the remaining targets fell, the beast's heavy breathing accompanying the cries of the wounded and the dying. He was sure that these people wouldn't be bothering his own again, and he would deal with them the same way if they chose to make the same mistake twice.

"Should we give chase to those that retreated, Your Grace?" Stafford asked between breaths, his helm in one hand as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the other. He'd lost his horse during the battle, so he was trying his best to look up at the king as he addressed him from the ground.

"No, but I want you and a few others to check the bodies and make sure they're all dead. We don't need one that was mwewly wounded getting up and killing someone before we leave," Rickard replied, watching as his friend walked off to see to his request. He hadn't seen any wounded among his own party yet, so he was counting it a complete success at the moment.

He coaxed his horse into a gentle walk into the vacant campsite, being careful to avoid the smoldering remains of the fires that had been there when they'd arrived as he studied what had been left behind by the enemy they had slain. Rickard could pick out a few items that they had obviously stolen, but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary to him. He removed his helmet carefully, a shower of sweat flying from his head as he did so. The night had brought on a slight drop in the temperature, but that hadn't stopped him from sweating in the steel suit he wore. He hoped that they would be able to find a safe place to make camp soon, but he had wanted to make sure that everything had been taken care of there first.

Rickard looked up as the sound of a snapping twig reached his ears, shocked when he was met with the sight of a savage charging at him, battleaxe in hand. He groped at his side for his sword, backing his horse up as he pulled it from its sheath. He barely had time to block the attack, but the clumsy excuse for a parry of the blow was just enough to keep the weapon from doing more than adding to the weight that he was already holding up. However, the blow had forced him to drop his helm in order to keep control of his startled horse.

"Rick, on your right!" Stafford shouted, though the king had no time to act on the warning. He had barely even spotted the second man before his sword had sliced through a weak spot in his armor, flooding Rickard's senses with searing pain and the smell of his own blood. He still, believe it or not, managed to kill the one who had made an attempt to hack his head off with a battleaxe. However, it was most likely an instinct, for he almost didn't remember doing it.

The pain was numbing him; blinding him in the unfamiliar territory. All Rickard could feel was the blood seeping from his side, his strength flooding out with it. He wasn't sure where the savage bastard that had drawn his blood was, but he could barely think enough to care. All he could see was red. All he could smell was sweat and blood, and so could his horse. He cried out as the beast panicked, taking off as though to attempt to escape the river of blood that was flowing onto its back. The king tried his best to hold on, but his best was greatly impaired by his wound at the moment. He flew from the back of the stallion, watching from where he'd landed in the leaves as the animal galloped into the forest and left its master behind. Rickard sat back then, trying in vain to calm himself as the red of his blood overtook his senses once again. He could hear voices getting closer, but the words weren't registering in his mind. The only thing that was making sense to him was his pain, and even that was fading.

Rickard shut his eyes for a moment, the last thing he saw before the world was lost to him being his wife's worried face. Her eyes were full of worry; almost as if, despite all of his assurances, she knew that something like this would happen.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this. I had this interesting idea a little while ago, but I didn't really know how to put it together until now. Basically, this story will be a combination of The Walking Dead characters (with names changed to match the GOT style) and plotline in a Game of Thrones setting. I hope you all enjoyed it, and don't forget to leave kudos or comments if you did!


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